


Anti-kink: Dirty Talk

by ash_carpenter



Series: Anti-kink [15]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Crack, Dirty Talk, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-13
Updated: 2014-07-13
Packaged: 2018-02-08 16:51:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1948848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ash_carpenter/pseuds/ash_carpenter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Next cross-posting of anti-kink fic  (series archived <a href="http://www.livejournal.com/tools/memories.bml?user=ash_carpenter&keyword=Anti-kink&filter=all">here</a> on LJ)! </p>
<p>Dean has a dirty mouth. So this one should be easy, right? </p>
<p>Right.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anti-kink: Dirty Talk

** Dirty Talk **

 

“What?” sighed Sam into his cell. It was the fourth time Dean had called and he really should just stop answering, but you never knew if it would be that one call in a thousand where Dean was being savaged by a supernatural beastie rather than just being an annoying tool.

“Get me pie, bitch.”

Okay, so. One of the nine hundred and ninety-nine then.

“Dude, I’m in a library. Last I checked, they don’t serve pie.”

“Pie!”

“God, you sound like a toddler. A retarded toddler.”

“Loves me some pie. Get me some pie.”

“Dean! You are not irritating me into getting you pie!” Not this time.

“I’m horny.”

“What?!” hissed Sam, casting a surreptitious glance around.

“If you’re not going to feed me, then at least come home so that I can ream your ass.” His voice dropped an octave as he pictured it. “Just wanna slide my dick right in there, Sammy. Fuck you so hard...”

Sam swallowed noisily, finding that his own body was far more interested in this conversation than the one about pie. Which was definitely a good thing. It was bad enough that one of them had a not so secret pastry kink, and he really didn’t need to be dealing with popping wood every time he was in a bakery in addition to the whole incest issue. And speaking of popping wood, Dean sounded like he was hard already, which was pretty damned hot.

“Dude, you’re turning me on,” he whispered, blushing guiltily.

“Yeah?” smiled Dean. “Well, get back here then. I’m gonna get myself ready, pull my dick out and slick up...”

Sam gave a choked moan, tugging his shirt down in a vain attempt to cover up his groin.

“You like that? What do you want me to do to you, Sammy?” purred Dean, voice fucked out and dripping sex.

“Want you to fuck me, big brother,” he blurted before giving a startled yip.

“Sam?! What’s wrong?”

“Uh...Gotta go.”

Dean stared at the phone in bemusement as he heard the sounds of Sam’s frantic apologies, followed by a scuffle, and then the dial tone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

By the time Sam had convinced the library security team that there was no need to phone the local police, he was no longer feeling very aroused.

Still incredibly humiliated, he trudged dejectedly into the motel room, hoping for some sympathy. “Hey.”

“Where’s my pie?” asked Dean expectantly, sitting up like an excited puppy.

Sam glared at Dean incredulously. “Shut up about the stupid pie! And whatever happened to you wanting to fuck me instead?”

“Yeah, well you took so freaking long that I rubbed one out. Now I’m even hungrier.”

“God, you’re disgusting,” groused Sam, extremely pissed off that he’d missed out on the action. “I was trying not to get arrested – which was _your_ fault for making me say dirty stuff in public!”

“I did no such thing!” asserted Dean in outrage. “And I _definitely_ didn’t make you admit your big gay incestuous love.”

“I...You...Shut up,” muttered Sam, ears going pink. He stomped around the room, opening his laptop and then immediately slamming the lid closed, kicking Dean’s duffle and generally making a dramatic nuisance of himself.

“You done?” asked Dean a couple of minutes later with badly disguised amusement.

“No! Yes. Damn it, Dean...Can’t you just...”

“What?”

“Make me feel better? With sex?”

Dean chuckled. “Are you asking me to fuck you back happy?”

“Yeah,” pouted Sam, pulling out the pathetic puppy expression that Dean was mostly powerless against. “And you should...You know. Talk.”

“Talk? Like, dirty talk? How I was on the phone?” At Sam’s nod, he smiled, gesturing for his brother to join him on the bed. “You liked that, huh?”

“Yeah,” breathed Sam, crawling over the covers and kissing Dean’s neck as he settled himself half on top of his body. “Was pretty hot.”

“Okay,” agreed Dean, kissing Sam full on the mouth and reaching down to knead at the already growing bulge at the front of his pants. “Take your clothes off. Wanna see you naked.”

Dean had apparently underestimated Sam’s horniness, because suddenly his little brother was a flurry of furious motion, clothes flying everywhere to leave him completely bare in about three seconds flat.

“Okay, so...keen. I like it,” smiled Dean, running his hand over Sam’s rippling abs and scratching over his happy trail on his way to his cock. “Look at you, Sammy. So sexy. Love all your muscles – even if they are sort of ridiculous. Like a sweaty bull. On steroids.”

Sam frowned.

“I mean, I know that you have to work out lots to compensate for the fact that you’re not as pretty as me, but you sort of look like you’re going to pop a vein...”

“Dude, can we get back on track, please?” said Sam prissily, unconsciously flexing his pecs. Stupid big brother, who was _obviously_ jealous of his superior physique...

“Right. Uh...Love your dick too. It’s big – like, nearly as big as mine – and...red. And veiny. And sort of wet.”

“Dean! That’s not sexy!” Sam peered down at his own cock – which was a perfectly normal colour and level of moistness, thank you very much – and then at Dean’s. “And, please...It’s way bigger than yours.”

“You wish,” muttered Dean. “Well, if you’re gonna complain about everything I say, then I’m not gonna talk! You’re the one who was hot for it.”

“Yeah, well you didn’t suck at it earlier! Just...talk about how you want to fuck me.”

“I wanna fuck you.”

There was a pause.

Sam looked at Dean expectantly.

“What?”

“You need to say more than that!”

“I _really_ want to fuck you...?”

Sam rolled his eyes. “God, you suck.”

“Not if you keep being a dick,” retorted Dean with a cross little frown. “Okay, fine. I wanna put my fingers in your tight little ass. You always feel so hot and...sticky.”

Sam closed his eyes against the visual, hoping that Dean didn’t elaborate. He was about to say as much, when he was distracted by Dean following his words with actions, rubbing the pad of his pointer finger over Sam’s pucker and pushing inside to the first knuckle. Sam grunted with pleasure, wriggling to try to get more.

“Mmm, yeah, like warm pie,” murmured Dean, eyes going slightly glassy. “Nice warm, sweet, luscious cherry pie...with a crumbly crust and...”

“Dean?”

“Hmm?”

“You’re not really thinking about me anymore, are you?”

Dean swallowed all the spare spit sloshing around in his mouth, looking slightly guilty. “Of course I am.” He cleared his throat. “Anyway, your ass...”

Sam forgot to be annoyed about the brief slip as Dean fucked his finger further inside, angling to brush over his prostate. “Fuck yeah...”

Dean smirked, sliding down Sam’s body and kissing a path down and past his groin. “Gonna eat you out too, watch you fall apart and flail around like a girl.”

“Hey,” began Sam, but his protest was completely forgotten as Dean blew over the head of his cock.

Dean moved further back and lapped over Sam’s ass, curling his tongue inside alongside his finger and catching at the rim, giving several firm licks. “You taste...uh...musky.”

Sam tensed. “Dean,” he said warningly.

“Sort of... _earthy_. Kinda like s– ”

“Dean! Don’t finish that sentence, _please_. For both of our sakes.”

“Okay,” mumbled Dean, tonguing at Sam’s balls instead, conceding to himself that it was probably for the best. Adding a second finger, he pressed smoothly in and out. “Yeah, tight and warm and...squishy.”

Sam ran a palm over his face. “Dude, seriously, just stop.”

“It’s harder than it sounds!” huffed Dean, pouting. “If you think you’d be any better, then feel free, genius.”

“Fine!” Sam was sure he’d be good at it. After all, he was articulate and eloquent, highly educated and extremely erudite and sophisticated. He gasped loudly as Dean pressed hard against his prostate. “Fuck! Fingers...ass...good.”

Dean snorted. “That’s right, Sam. You show me how it’s done.”

“No fair,” panted Sam, spreading his legs wider. It wasn’t his fault Dean had the best hands ever, and that they were currently sending him well on his way to happy land. His brother had recently had an orgasm (a self-inflicted one, the asshat), so he wasn’t contending with such rampant horniness. “Just give me a sec.”

Sam managed to compose himself, rolling them so that they were on their sides facing one another, groping at each other’s dicks and kissing all the skin that they could reach.

“Mmmm,” encouraged Sam. “Love how you’re such a slut for me...OW! What the hell was that for?” he demanded, rubbing at his sore arm.

“You called me a slut, douchebag!”

“What? Yeah, but...It was a _compliment_!” Sort of.

“Oh, really? ‘Cause girls don’t find it very complimentary.” Dean cocked his head to the side, reviewing his words. “Uh, not that I’m a girl,” he quickly backtracked. Glowering at Sam’s smirk, he gave him a hard, biting kiss and said, “Just get on with it.”

“You’re so hot,” whispered Sam, breath flowing intimately over Dean’s earlobe. “And I love how you respond to me. When I kiss you and touch you, you just melt right into it. You fuck into my hand when I jack your dick...”

Dean was finally reacting favourably to Sam’s chat, arching against him and whimpering slightly. With their slick cocks rubbing together, it was all going perfectly according to plan.

So, of course, he had to go and ruin it.

“You love it when I slide my fingers into your ass...”

“Wait, what?” snapped Dean, abruptly pulling away and leaving Sam kissing air and looking vaguely like a guppy. “Don’t say that.”

“Say what?” asked Sam, baffled. He gave a low whine when Dean stopped jerking his dick.

“That I like...you know,” he finished, low and embarrassed, actually casting a glance around the room as if a judgemental audience of puritans might have appeared from somewhere.

Sam gaped at him. “Are you joking?”

Dean coloured slightly. “No, I just...There’s no need to _say_ it!”

“What, that you like me putting stuff in your ass?”

“Sam!”

“But you do, you moron! You love it! You love it when I finger fuck you and when I put my big _red_ dick in you and...Dean. Dean! Don’t cover your ears with your hands! Oh my God, you’re SO childish!”

Sam grabbed hold of Dean’s hands, trying to wrestle them away from the sides of his head (and preferably back towards his still extremely interested cock), cursing and tussling with his squirming brother.

“Stop humming fucking Metallica!”

Dean suddenly dived for the edge of the bed, trying to commando roll off onto the floor and escape to the more heterosexual environs of the bathroom, but Sam snatched him around the waist. “No, you don’t.”

After bucking and kicking for a few seconds, flailing around and generally getting nowhere, Dean sighed and stilled.

“You done?”

“Yes,” he replied sulkily.

“Good,” said Sam huskily, rolling on top of him and trapping him. “You feel that?” he asked, thrusting their cocks together, groaning at the hardness he could feel beneath him and the slick sensation of their pre-come mingling.

Dean nodded, eyelids fluttering involuntarily.

“What is it?”

Dean mumbled something which definitely contained the word “dick”, so Sam generously ignored the surrounding phrasing, which might have involved “smaller”, “red” and “moist”.

“Right. And where do you like me putting it?”

Sam smiled when Dean groaned, embarrassed and aroused and entirely defeated. Sighing, knowing that he was beaten, Dean exhaled a noisy breath. “In my ass,” he muttered, voice deep and rough. “And my mouth. And up against my cock. And I sort of like it when you thrust in between my thighs when you’re too sleepy and too far gone to fuck, and you just blow your hot, slick load all over my balls...”

“Oh God, Dean!” Sam was absolutely blindsided by roaring, white-hot lust, completely enamoured by the glazed excitement on his brother’s face and the breathy, almost submissive way that he gave in and admitted how much Sam turned him on. Astonished by his own reaction, Sam was helpless to do anything but rock hard against Dean’s groin – once, twice, then going still with a little cry.

Dean’s jaw dropped open. “Sam?”

“Just shut up, Dean,” mumbled Sam, burying his face in his brother’s neck and groaning.

“Did you just come?”

“No,” lied Sam, although he sort of doubted that Dean would fail to notice the large wet patch slicking his thigh, hip and cock.

“My God, you did! You just spunked all over me!” crowed Dean loudly enough to alert the whole motel to the situation, before laughing hysterically.

“Dean, please,” whined Sam, keeping his face tucked away, hoping that the glowing redness would fade sometime in the next week or two. Assuming Dean ever let him forget the incident, which seemed sort of unlikely.

“I thought I sucked at dirty talk?” said Dean smugly, grinning like an idiot. He patted Sam’s ass. “Don’t worry, little brother. You can’t help it that I’m so hot you have to just spray yourself like a teenager...”

“I only got off so hard ‘cause you were finally admitting that you love my dick,” pointed out Sam. “And, to be fair, you did say that you like me shooting my load all over you. You’re welcome, by the way.”

Dean was startled into another laugh, although he did turn a little pink at the reminder of his words. “Yeah, thanks, Sam. It was so generous of you to hose me down. And leave me hard and unsatisfied, as it happens,” he added pointedly.

Sam waved a dismissive hand. “You’re okay, you rubbed one out. At your age, I’m surprised you even got it up again so soon.”

Scowling, Dean slapped Sam’s butt. “Be nice, bitch, or I won’t talk you into prematurely ejaculating again.”

“Jerk,” replied Sam automatically, yawning widely. Despite the rather odd circumstances, he felt sated and was ready for a refreshing nap. He settled more solidly against Dean.

“Hey, don’t you dare go to sleep. I’m not lying here, unsatisfied, covered in your spooge, while you squash me to death and snore in my ear.”

“Shh,” crooned Sam, kissing Dean’s mouth to shut up him.

Dean waited for a few moments, glaring vaguely at the ceiling when he realised that Sam’s breath was evening out, limbs getting heavier. He jabbed him hard in the ribs, eliciting an annoyed and sleepy grunt.

“ _What_ , Dean?”

“Get me pie!”

Sam groaned.

 

 

THE END  



End file.
